Their passion was naturally extraordinary and intense.

By the end, her entire body had melted like water, without a trace of strength remaining, yet she still clung to him tightly, unwilling to let go.

His body covered in sweat, he brushed aside her long hair, his fingers tracing her eyebrows and eyes repeatedly, calling her softly: “Meng Tinghui.”

She opened her eyes, the candlelight flickering brightly, illuminating his handsome features, so striking that it made her heart tremble.

There were so many things she wanted to tell him, yet she didn’t know where to begin.

He seemed to feel the same way.

They hadn’t been alone together for many days, and the desire suppressed for so long was now so raw and undisguised that just calling her name carried thousands of threads of intense emotion.

Outside, the sky had darkened, but she noticed that the red candles on the table hadn’t burned down much. From this, she deduced that he must have left the banquet early, while the officials and generals in Daqing Hall had not yet dispersed, and this realization warmed her heart.

She wanted to ask who the Emperor intended to appoint to fill the vacant position of Deputy Director of the Archery Bureau but feared touching on a forbidden topic, making herself appear presumptuous. So she restrained herself from asking.

He turned over, embracing her from behind.

This position made it easier for his large hands to roam over her body, his warm fingertips igniting fires everywhere they touched, soon causing her to moan softly again.

“Your Majesty,” she raised her hand to press against his arm, trying to stop his movements. It wasn’t that she didn’t desire him, but she wanted to talk with him. “A year ago on Your Majesty’s birthday, Your Majesty first ascended the throne. I hardly noticed, yet a whole year has passed.”

He reached out to pull the bed curtain, shutting out some of the light. “Among all the court ministers, I didn’t see any gift from you.”

She smiled. “The gifts presented by officials from all provinces and the capital are so rare and precious, yet I haven’t seen Your Majesty smile even once. Why are you now asking me for a gift?”

He was silent for a moment, then suddenly asked, “What if I particularly wanted a gift from you today?”

She had never seen him so unreasonable and found it somewhat amusing. “My life was saved by Your Majesty, my position was granted by Your Majesty, and my heart has long belonged to Your Majesty. I don’t know what more Your Majesty could ask of me.”

He held her tighter, lowering his head to kiss her cheek, his voice husky: “I haven’t decided yet. Consider it a debt for now. One day when I come to collect, regardless of what it is, you must fulfill my wish.”

“Your Majesty is truly imperious.” She hadn’t expected him to be serious, but curved her lips in a smile and said, “Your Majesty can ask for a gift from me on your birthday, but I have no way to ask for a birthday gift from Your Majesty…”

From childhood to adulthood, when had she ever known her birthday, and when had she ever received gifts from others?

But for a long while, she heard no response from him.

Thinking that perhaps she had said something wrong, she quietly turned to look at him.

Against the light, his brow was shrouded in darkness.

She was startled.

The fact that she was an orphan was common knowledge. She had spoken without any self-pity, so why did he have such an expression?

His hand caressed her face again, his expression showing a hint of hesitation, as if he wanted to tell her something, but ultimately said nothing, only pulling her back into his embrace.

Since he didn’t speak, she didn’t press him, just quietly nestled against him, listening to his suddenly rapid heartbeat. She raised her hand to gently press against his chest as if to reassure him that she didn’t feel sad at all.

When she wasn’t looking at him, he closed his eyes heavily, allowing the words so difficult to express to flood through his entire body, gradually dissolving into his blood.

He had missed that night, and now he was missing tonight.

When would he finally be able to tell her?

She suddenly spoke, asking, “How many years has Your Majesty known Commander Di?”

He snapped back to awareness, raising an eyebrow as he looked at her, puzzled as to why she suddenly mentioned Di Nian, but answered, “Since the spring of the 18th year of Qiande, when we first met in the Western Gardens of the Western Capital. It’s been eight years now.”

She gave a light “hmm” in response, then fell silent.

It wasn’t that she didn’t know how long the two had known each other; she just wanted to confirm the nature of their private relationship beyond that of emperor and subject.

And his straightforward answer was exactly as she had expected.

In truth, her question was unnecessary. During the Chao’an Imperial Guard mutiny, she already knew that among the capital’s Imperial Guards, if one were to identify those closest to the Emperor, Di Nian would be the foremost.

From childhood, he had been particularly close to military officers, which was evident from the attitudes of the senior ministers of the Military Commission toward her that day at the training grounds. Compared to the civil officials at court, his heart must naturally trust the military commanders of the Military Commission more.

Given this, her determination grew even stronger.

He held her chin and tilted it upward, his eyebrows raised high. “What is it?”

Now it was her turn to find it difficult to speak.

The words spoken to her today by Di Nian and Gu Qin were not something she could share with him at this moment, and the thoughts currently forming in her mind were something even she was ashamed to voice.

Had Gu Qin not pressured her, she would never have conceived such an idea.

She was not so noble or selfless, nor could she completely detach herself from these two matters.

He was not someone who could be manipulated. If he saw the Secretariat’s memorial requesting the appointment of an Empress, he would certainly reject their proposal. And even if her decision had nothing to do with his, the senior ministers would think she was interfering. Wouldn’t she then be betraying her agreement with Gu Qin?

Moreover, if Di Nian subsequently presented a memorial requesting imperial permission for marriage, and if the Emperor granted his request, the court would believe this was done at the Emperor’s instruction. The senior ministers would lose face, and Shen Zhili would certainly resist the imperial decree. If he rejected the memorial, it would create a rift with Di Nian, and the harmonious relationship between the sovereign and the subject would be destroyed.

In this world, no person or matter was more important to her than he was.

Therefore, she would rather temporarily keep this from him and try to turn the situation around through her own efforts.

Gu Qin’s intentions weren’t wrong, but his mistake was being too straightforward, so straightforward that he thought no one would use Shen Zhili as a political tool.

…And he certainly wouldn’t have imagined that she, Meng Tinghui, would conceive such a thought.

Seeing her silence, he knew she must be hiding something. But since she was unwilling to tell him, he wouldn’t force her.

Who doesn’t have secrets in their heart?

Pressed against him, she finally shifted slightly after a long while and said softly, “I just feel like I’ve become less and less like my former self.”

In the past, she hadn’t been so calculating.

He stroked her hair and sighed with a smile, “In this life, how can anyone remain unchanged forever?”

She looked up at him and asked, “Has Your Majesty changed?”

With matters weighing on his mind, his words were not as carefree as before. His eyes grew increasingly dark as he asked, “You think I’ve changed?”

“Perhaps you have,” she raised herself slightly, holding his face in both hands, examining him carefully, “but I cannot discern how.”

He pressed her down with one motion, his heartbeat difficult to control.

Suddenly, he somewhat regretted not allowing her to drink tonight. Her mind was sharp, intelligent, and quick-witted; she didn’t guard against him because she loved him deeply.

Her hair, like seaweed, tangled and spread across his chest, making his breathing even heavier.

Her emotions had always been bright and straightforward. What she wanted and how to get it—she knew clearly and pursued it bravely.

But the more she was like this, the more difficult it became for him to maintain his usual calm composure.

That night, they both held reservations about certain matters from each other.

Yet these reservations were, after all, out of consideration for the other.